


Anything Can Happen In The Woods

by zai_make_it_awesome



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fantasy AU, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Hal has a body, Hal is good, High Fantasy, Isolation, Log Cabin, M/M, MIGHT ADD MORE :/, Magic, Mates, Poor Dirk, Slow Burn, mute!Dirk, no sburb, werewolf!jake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-10-27 21:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10816707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zai_make_it_awesome/pseuds/zai_make_it_awesome
Summary: set in a high fantasy AU with magic and constructs.prompt : how differently would Dirk and Jakes relationship be if dirk was the one isolated from human contact (not counting the ghost if his twin Hal) and Jake was the one living in a village filled with people.well, not normal people but we'll get to that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> think of Dirk and Hal like being in the same situation as 'Beyond two souls ' . I didnt tag this fandom cuz I'm nit really taking anything else from it :/ also , the common methods of keeping ghosts away applies to Hal . 
> 
> I'll add more tags when they show up cuz i dont wanna spoil
> 
>  **edit 5/15/17** : color for text :D  
>  **edit 5/21/17** : at this point I really need an editor or someone to point out my mistakes

 

Dirk never really learned how to speak. Not because of not trying, because he did. But rather, because of the lack of company during his younger years. Bro died when he was around four years of age. He’s ever really had anybody else since. Well, that’s a lie. He did have somebody, his twin brother who no one else can see. He’s always there and always watching over him. If he tried he could see exactly what his twin sees and sense exactly what he could sense. But other than that , he’s been alone ever since.

He doesn’t really know exactly where he is or where other places are, but he knows of them. Great cities , small villages , even family – no , family left. He doesn’t have family. bro always did tell him stories of these places and people. He said he was a great warrior who hid behind a façade of a traveling bard. He’d tell him tales of when he fought against tyranny and charmed both men and women to bed. Your probably wondering how Dirk could possibly remember any of this if he was four when David died. Dirks twin is a good brother , best ghost.

Regardless, Dirk is now faced with a dilemma. There seems to be a horribly wounded man around his age bleeding all over the front porch. A large gash runs from the mans upper left shoulder down to his lower right waist, blood oozing slowly from the open wound like a drying spring. That’s not good. If he leaves him alone, his gonna die on Dirk’s front porch and stain the planks he’d just finish replacing yesterday. He doubt the stranger’s gonna live even if he tried to help, so really it’s a question of where he wants blood to stain on his house.

Not even reaching a decision Dirk sees the telltale signs of his brother doing what he wants as the body began levitating towards the inside of their small shack. Dirk briefly wonders why his brother hasn't commandeered the body like he usually would have.

He sets the dying man in front of the central fireplace and starts a small flame, then items began floating about and collecting themselves infront of the soon-to-be-dead-if-you-don’t-do-something-now stranger. Dirk wonders if a dead body is good fertilizer.

Theres a phantom wack to his head.

He looks beyond and sees a see-though version of himself gesturing comically towards the body and the laid out items, as if saying 

well ? DO SOMETHING !!

Dirk sighs.

 

  
**=== > Be Dirk**.

 

  
You are so done.

You've basically had it with this week. You had it so much with this week you probably couldnt stand up ever again at the end of it. But No , Dirk Strider has not suffered enough , lets toss him another dying body to deal with in his lifetime.

 

Fuck . you . Life .

Dirk , anytime today please. 

Shut up Hal.

Can't , I dont have a mouth. But if I did , I still wouldn't 

 

You think about whacking him with a sword but a groan from the dying man puts that thought back to the burner. Its time to hammer this certain iron in the fire.

 

It was around 12:03 when you finally finished stitching the damn gash on the strangers back. Honestly , you think you went on auto pilot for a while there. Hal had to snap you out of it a few times when you where about to stitch the same place thrice. 4 broken bone needles and 13 bandages later, you finally deemed the man no longer dying.

You’ve gotten a good look on his face and its safe to assume that your gayness didn’t just limit itself to detailed drawings of centaurs,

 

Ha! you're so hella gay man 

I can salt all the surfaces again Hal , don’t think I wont. 

Jeez , I was just stating the obvious- damn. 

You gave the stink eye to the phantom lounging around the main sitting area. God you need some time to cool off, maybe make that thing you had thought about a while back…

 

Stay here Hal, watch the guy if he kicks the bucket or not. Call me if he wakes or dies 

Aye Aye Dirky pie, I’ll make sure this cute piece of ass stays on the bucket. All Hands and feet inside the vehicle til it comes to a complete stop. No complementary ale or bread though , exclusively first class only. 

 

You walk away before you get a headache from his ramblings , you think he got it from your bro. You have vague memories of that guy never shutting up. Gods know he can talk enough for all three of you and then some.

  
A little ways from the house – but not many, is a small shed that you built very recently and by yourself. It houses all your contraptions left unfinished or broken. In its core is a small forge that you keep running – not just for smithing but also to heat your small hut during the cold nights. There , in the corner of the shed , hidden by a salted cloth , is the project you’ve been slowly working on.

 

Your not a very good sculptor but you wanted to make this as realistic as possible. It was modeled like a string porcelain doll but with all the range of motion that a human body could perform. It took some tweaking but you are finally passed halfway done. The body was not made of porcelain though , no – it needed to be more stronger , more sturdier. So it was made out if metal , some parts hollow , some parts not .

Joints where customized ball bearings, limbs where complex and the project was steady going. And hiding it from Hal was one of the reasons why it wasn't finished yet. Layers of cloth over it to make it look like a simple pile of fabrics , deception as well as protection because gods know the many discarded piles of scrap you accumulated because you forgot to separate the salt cloth from the normal cloth , making you lose weeks of work from rusted pieces.

Almost like putting on a uniform , you easily slip away into the flow of working and crafting. Tweaking the inner clockwork a little, changing the wind-up design to last longer, going through the motions of maintenance and testing. Technically, the entire body was finished , but the inner workings and accents were delicate and slow going . The idea was a body so closely human that Hal can go around and actually interact with people if he wanted. Your bond could stretch as far as a mile before the pain goes over tolerable. And you know how much he wanted to explore and meet new people and learn more things.

You wish you can say the same for yourself.

You were heavily concentrated on making the joints more flexible and oiling the different components that could collapse and expand when the torso bent over or back without breaking the inner workings when you were basically yanked towards the main house.  
You quickly go through the process of hiding the body, making sure the salt cloth was on top of cloth and leather , not metal.

There was another yank. Stronger this time.

 

Alright , Alright. I’m comin’ ya impatient heathen. 

That insult would hurt more if I gave a fuck. Get in here would you ? he’s touching the heat valve and he already messed with the ceiling light. 

He isn't suppose to be moving around! Why didn’t you call me sooner ? 

 

  
You burst through the door before Hal could give you his retort. The sight was comical if you weren’t worried more about him turning the house into a dutch oven. He jumped a clear foot into the air before turning to face you. 

“H-Hello there chap, you wouldn't happen to be the good fellow that patched me up, would you ?"

_Yes , I am._

He’s still looking at you, spooked but expectant. You sigh, that’s right , your mute.

You moved passed him to the little knob imbedded in the wall and dial it back down, it already felt stuffy when you bust in. You made yourself busy, opening windows and cooking dinner, checking the ceiling light before twisting the knob and checking the glow for any indication of fault of break. Theres an intake of breath beside you.

 

“Crikey, are you a wizard ?” 

You give him a look. That’s when you realize _holy shit he’s not just hot – he’s cuter than maplehoof . Gods give me strength._

 

Brony , I heard that. 

Fuck you Hal. 

You know what, I'm gonna be the big brother here and answer the guy. 

What ? no , Hal n- 

Before you could stop him, you lose control of your body.


	2. Chapter 2

 

**=== > Be the Other Boy**

you don’t need to be the other boy because you already are the other boy. You’ve committed mutiny and commandeered Dirk. You are now Hal-Strider-In-Dirk-Strider’s-body, what will you do ?

well , first of all , your gonna try to talk to the black haired beauty fussing over you. You guess that dirk stumbled as you took over or something. He’s so cute , so clueless and cute and _fluffy_!

you open Dirk’s mouth to talk for the first time ever and – nothing. There was a weird garble that you think sounded like a breathy squeak. Well that was a total bust, you think Dirk really can't talk but- no , theres been no damage to his vocal cords, he cried like a dying cat and babbled a lot when he was a lot younger. Maybe you cant control a body function that’s not used a lot. Plan B then.

You move past the stranger- you should really ask for his name – and grabbed a paper and pen. He glances over your shoulder as you start writing.

_Hi , I'm Dirk. I can't really speak . please don’t touch anything that you don’t know how to use . You can stay for as long as you need to get back on your feet. Ps :I've never written anything since I was 9_

gods that took too much effort that logically necessary. Dirk was a fucking tinkerer for gods sake why cant he hold a fucking pen? Maybe this was good. By no time dirk could write like a fucking poet and it would be viewed by literally two people only. 

“heya, I'm jake,”

You wave your hand in what you hope was a _go on…_ gesture.

“I… got lost in the forest looking for my …”  he paused “cousin”

you raise a single eye brow but brushed his hesitation aside

you stride ( stumble ) past him and pat the bed before you release the hold you have on dirk. You watch him come to, fully aware of what happened, before frantically trying to stop him salting your favorite chair.

Dirk wait, what are you doing? No , stop that. I was helping you damn it

Don’t . Ever . Take over. Again . Got it ?

Wow. Ok ,jeez, I was only trying to help. 

I didnt **ASK** for your help. 

You reel back from his venomous tone, fully aware of the heavy betrayal that pulses in the part of you that you intimately know is tethered to Dirk. You are completely baffled from his overreaction, it was illogical and uncalled for. And the more you grow quiet, you feel a hint more beneath the betrayal. Mortification. Self-loathing. Anxiety. It weighs so heavily and hangs so thickly you think your suffocating. You- you fucked up. Maybe you should go- It'll clear both of your heads and more importantly, It'll help make you feel less of a royal douchemuffin. 

You fly though the door and zoom past the circular clearing that surround your small shack, going as far as the tether stretches. You stop when you start to feel a pounding pain in your chest enough to knock the breath out of you- that is if you breathed at all. You where a little ways past the boundary marker that you and dirk placed when you where around thirteen and curious about the bond between the both of you. It was a sizable rock propped against a tree. The mark was hard to miss seeing as the rock was painted an obnoxious orange with two red triangles that meet on a corner.

You vaguely remember telling Dirk that it was like painting the family crest on a rock and laughed at the irony of it. Now though, you cant really say if the sight of it is nostalgic or melancholic. You begin to circle back in a slow and wide spiral around the entire perimeter until you finally end up at your shack. In the low light of ... sunset ? damn- you were wandering around for a while, the shack looks like it would collapse any minute. But you knew of its internal pipings, its cogs and clockwork parts that makes it unique and completely yours-well, your and Dirks. 

The yard lights were lit and you saw the soft glow of the interior lights permeate through the cracks of the wood walls and the barely curtained windows. When you peak through, Dirk is sitting on his workbench and the stranger-Jake-was on the bed seemingly asleep...

You're back.

...  
Jake offered to teach me how to talk.  
That's great. Maybe You can finally have a conversation to thin air.

His slumped form goes rigid. Hands go still, hovering over the small contraption he was working on. Dirk was still for a long time. Long enough for you to get worried. Long enough for you to phase through the wall and stand nearby. Long enough for you to beat yourself up about speaking without thinking it through. You are the royal fuck up. It is you. 

If you're going to be an ass about this then fine. Be that way. Last time I checked _you_ invited him to stay, so you dont really have the right to get pissy right now when I'm just making good on your 'help'.  
You were eyeing Jake's **_ass_** what did you want me to do ? watch in second degree horror as you fuck up the first human interaction you've had in _twelve fucking years_?! No fucking way. I live vicariously through you. So for gods sakes just apologize already and be done with it- Jesus.

A beat of silence 

Gods we're all kinds of fucked up.  
Speak for yourself, I'm fucking awesome.  
I thought you lived vicariously through me?   
I make you less of a fuck up, its my job as big brother   
Yeah...Thanks Hal, and, uh. Sorry.   
Get the fuck to sleep already Dirk. Gods, its like you actually care about my feelings or something   


Dirk snorts a little before getting up and laying down on the pile of fur pelt by the central fireplace. It wasn't long before he fell alseep, which meant you fell asleep too. And you dream of purple spires and black featureless men. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that penmanship was me writing with my left hand , little trivia there for y'all . also it occured to me that the relationship between Dirk and Hal is #complicated


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Ok Dirk, what do you call this doohickey?"

"It’s a…lah-it" Jake smiles at your focus. You must always get it right the first time.

"alright, and how does it work?" a look of concentration on your face as you think of the shortest way to explain the cavern crystals within the protective glass that glows in moderately high temperatures which you induce using the heat of your other contraptions. "Has glowing … kristahls? inside. Don't break it" You reach for the glass of water.

"That was great Dirk! Its only been a few days, but you can already hold proper conversations. You’ll be able to charm the noggins off those village damsels in no time, I’m sure of it."

You give him a flat look.

"ok ok , we’ll stop for today. Just keep practicing with those songs I taught you."

Jake picks up his papers and moves back outside where there was a small stool for him to whittle on. He’s been doing that a lot ever since you deemed him ok to move around. He was healing a lot faster than you expected but Jake assured you that it was only because he was always of high constitution. You caught him staring out into the forest sometimes, with a lost look on his eye. You’ve been telling yourself that he could up and leave any time but every morning you’d wake up with him snoring obnoxiously atop your bed. He says he's staying in the off chance that his 'cousin' would somehow end up here and should he leave it'd become ' A giant dickens of a goose chase'. You smile a little on his odd way of talking and the cheery lilt to his voice that sounds deep and rumbly like rolling thunder clouds. Jesus your thinking in poetry now? You wouldn't bee surprised if you somehow ended up reciting sonnets and ballads. 

It's only been a few days you know.  
"So ?"  
I've literally seen him leap onto the roof to fix that leak over the fireplace.  
"He’s fine, Hal"  
I was talking about his weirdness, not asking for your opinion on his ass.

Your eyes narrow on the table where Hal was reading a book on _Magic and History_. He's been doing that for a while now too. Hal apparently found an old cache of books that used to belong to bro and now he's consuming their text like a scholar with a test due in a few hours. At least he's been helpful, pointing out the ways to enhance and improve certain inventions. But if anything it just made him more grating to you than usual. Pointing over your shoulder at your work then reciting a certain piece of text like you were suppose to know that the interior mechanism for a sound resonator would not hold for long under the stress of constant sound vibrations. There was a thing called trial and error and it has served you well enough before. On the other hand, you seem to be wasting less materials and you don't think you due for another excursion in a while if this keeps up. You used to venture of to the ruins east of here a lot, finding odds and ends and lots of metal scraps. You have a box of green and copper bits that seem to be in good enough order, if only you knew what the hell they were...

Huh... Did you know some old artificer created a spell that allowed you to speak with anybody- no matter where they are in the world- so long as they have the same spell? You'd need a item that the spell latches onto though. Whadd'ya think? Wanna try making one? You can give the other half to Jake. Then you can talk with him even when he leaves you in the middle of the night. Unless of course he throws it away then fuck him right?  
"hmm"  
Jesus christ on a bread stick, talk to me Dirk! and not vocally. we all know you can't handle more than thirty words without sounding like you have a frog in your throat. No, not 'a' frog but frogs! like the symphony of the rain, croaking all the way to sunday.  
" I do _not_ sound like that."   
There was a thunk on the wall when Jake called out "Dirk? are you alright in there?"  you saw him look back through the window at you. You give him a thumbs up and turn back towards the table where Hal has a hand on his chin and a smirk on his mouth. Paint it. Frame it. Sell it to a curator because that right there is picture perfect _arrogant asshole._

That's thirty words now. 

You groan."I'm going to the shed." you say as you grab your leather apron from the wall it hung on, mildly glad you suppressed a crack in your voice. You'd be damned before you willingly prove Hal right. Besides, you doubt anybody improved without pushing their limits. You honestly consider trashing the body idea with how pissy he's been acting but you stop yourself. Jake was gonna leave and you're gonna be alone again and you'd rather be talking with a metal doll than talking to thin air.

Right-o,chap   
Alright, nerd. 

**=== > BE JAKE **

_Holy crimminy crinklefucking tootsy._ This was honestly the first thought that appeared in your head when a pale, lithe, blonde haired man- Dirk, busts through the door when you woke up. He hadn't said anything then, just sort of stared at you with his piercing orange eyes. You had tried to strike up a conversation but you where thoroughly ignored in favor of 'fixing' all the contraptions that you had examined before he scared the bejezzus out of you. You later learned that he was mute and could barely write, judging from that awful chicken scratch. And you were more than grateful enough to offer to teach him.

You've been learning a lot about Dirk these past few days and each one made him less intimidating and more... charming? yeah. He was a charming fellow although often staring into space and a damn good genius too, maybe enough to put Jade on a run for her money. Jade... you haven't seen her emerge from the forest or fall from the sky and you are growing more and more worried. You we're both running away from that damned group of skitters before one of them caught you on the back and another threw jade so far you lost sight and sense of her. But she was a smart lass, she could definitely take care of herself. You hope she was ok, and that she's found someone to help her like you have. You hope with all your heart she wasn't all alone in this forgotten forest.

You suppose you could always go look for her but you cant bring yourself to leave Dirk. Maybe because you promised to teach him how to talk and hopefully bring him with you when you eventually find your way back home. You doubt that- no ones ever left the forest before, legend and lore about these woods swallowing souls and imprisoning lost hunters.

But if Dirk has lived here his whole life and survive, whose to say you both can't find your way out. Then there's _if_ he wanted to find a way out. He did have a life going for him here...

"oh poppycock..."

Maybe its best if you go and ask him first. Yes, if you knew what he felt about the idea maybe it would make the conundrum in your head less conundy. You find him in his work shop(shack, lean-to thing) working on a doll. A very human like doll who looks a lot like him. Dirk was crouched in front of its chest area, fiddling with some very tiny looking gogs and strings. The doll had a pattern to it's skin, set of grooves that imitated musculature and what you do believe is metal plate sectioning. The doll had the makings of a great construct! better than dreambot for sure. Something that Jade had back at home to protect the house should she be unavailable. You clear your throat.

" Dirk? sorry to bother you ol' chap but the good whittle-to's a bit beaverish today. I don't suppose you could youse any help ? I've had my fair share of making constructs." Dirk turns around and looks at you quizzically."what can you do?"  his stance a little guarded over the metal body. You understand the sentiment though, if you were working on a construct you'd never let anyone touch it when it wasn't done yet, so much of it was delicate before the tie of magic that binds the whole thing.

"Well, I'm not very good at it, but I know a bit of nature magic. Maybe fashion a voice box for it, I've done it before- for my cousin. She was damned set on crafting her construct with enough jolly yamering it would scare the wolves!"  
"You can give it a voice?"  
" I can... that is - if you want me to.  
"yeah, Hal would like that."  
"Hal? is that this constructs name?"  
Dirks face scrunches up. " yeah? Hals brother--uh , my brother. He's"  he makes a guesture with his hands "not seeable-- dead but here. Twins"  he says the last part with a 'You and I' gesture to nothing.  
" you mean the one that raised you?"  
"no, thats bro- Hal is Hal." 

You're getting very confused. So Dirk has a brother that raised him who died, but also has a twin that dead but not dead? So like an undead? no, he said he was 'not seeable' so like a ghost? Dirk, a hermit in the forgotten forest, lives with his dead twin brother ,who his making a construct body for. Gods, no one would believe you if you said that to anyone. It sounds like some convoluted fairytail. Injured man stumbled upon a handsome hermit's abode in an unforgiving forest, gets taken care of until he realizes the hermit is derranged and dead set on giving his incorporeal brother a body. Then again, you wouldn't mind staying here for eternity with Dirk, maybe even share the bed with him. Undress him slowly and run your claws gently on his tender skin and watch as- WOAH BACK UP. 

"Hey dirk?"   
"hmm?" he humms in reply, teeth clutching an adjustment tool as his hands delicately attatch a thin wire in the the clockwork. You wonder breifly what else his mouth could hold on to. You gulp.  
" what do you suppose the moon would be tonight?"   
he pauses to think for a bit, "full-maybe almost full. why?"   
shit."oh nothing much ol'chap, just might need to roam a bit tonight- might be time to look around if my cousin's anywhere nearby."  
"will y-you be back?" his voice cracks, you hope its because he isnt used to talking.  
" Yes, of course. just might look around for a day or too. Easier to find campfire in the dark and all, and I'll have you know I'm an excellent hunter and I can easily find my way back here." Your rambling. shit. 

"ok..."you think he looks a little dejected, but its far better than finding him dead. You set yourself back to work. The idea was sort of simple anyway, you could finish it today. It was a replica of an actual thorax with the flaps and pipes. though you've only seen this work with a magical construct. And with how you suspect this was gonna become animated, you'd need to adjust a few things... - or enchant it yourself. You continue to make small talk with Dirk, voicing out your problems and appreciating his input until you come to a prototype completely devoid of magical assistance. Dirk had suggested to use a certain crystal that seemed to produce wind when in motion, and that was that. 

the sun had set, the construct finished, and with you growing increasingly anxious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE WEREWOLF!JAKE 
> 
> *sigh* where am I going with this ? do I smut ? should I smut ? ?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not edited because i srsly need a beta QnQ

Chapter 4

**Dirk**

Shit. You fucked up. Jake's leaving saying he's gonna come back but you just know you did something wrong. You wish you could tell him to stay, guilt him into waiting for a few more days, another month- forever. But you can't. You give a weak  "ok..."  and you hope Jake thinks it's cuz your throat hurts. It does, but for a different reason entirely. Today was the first time he entered into your workshop, first time he saw you working on a project- _the_ project. And for crying out loud he gave Hal a chance to speak! He doesn't even know the guy. He makes your chest feel like a vice grip on your heart. Like a python slithered under your skin and wrapped itself around your rib cage, threatening to break the only thing that's holding you together. His eyes makes you feel both ashamed and proud of yourself at the same time and you don't know which is worse. In the span of two weeks he's become another constant, buzzing in your head, subconsciously checking back every time if he's really there.

And now he's leaving _only for a day or two_ , but it does little to ease your thoughts. Instead you keep thinking how a day could lead to two, then three. And if he did find his cousin, why would he come back? he said so himself, he's an excellent tracker, he could very well just leave. Forever. _Maybe he should,_ whispered a dark thought, _he should get as far away from you as possible- you are cursed. Why else would you be in this forest?_ Maybe... maybe if you had a bit more time, you could tuck these feelings away. Yeah, if you cant feel anything you won't get hurt when he leaves. The snake around your chest would leave, the vice grip on your heart would ease and if he didn't come back then nothing would change. You'd be just fine, you were fine without him once, you'll be fine again when he leaves.

"w-when?"  
"when what? when am I leaving?"  
you nod stiffly. " well, as soon as possible I hope. A have a good feeling for tonight."  


you nod stiffly again. _lock it down, dirk, conceal don't feel._ You repeat this in your head like a mantra. Over and over and over, one foot after the other. one, two, one, two. You feel yourself detach from reality, like a spectator in your own body, like the time Hal took over you. It's unnerving and if this wasn't your intention you'd snap yourself right back to the reigns. Though right now, you'd rather not. Have you been breathing? you don't know, the pain in your lungs could be from something else entirely but you willingly breathe. Inhale, one, two, three, exhale.You both enter your house and immediately you see Hal hovering by the central fireplace with stew already in the pot. By now it was probably around quarter to five and the sun was just beginning its slow decent to twilight.

Dirk, I think I used the last of the beef, we've only got a few salted venison left and- whats wrong?  
Jake's Leaving.  
oh? when?  
tonight, two days. I'll grab the bowls.  
Dirk-  
Drop it Hal, just pack a bag for him and leave it by the door please.  
I- ok, I hope you know what your doing Dirk.

You watch him move away from the pot of stew and begin floating around packing salves, jerky, a few spare clothes and a spare bedroll you never use anymore. Jake's seen stuff floating about before, he never did believe you when you said you couldn't do magic. At least he now knows that's it's all Hal. He helps you grab the wooden bowls and spoons almost hurried to eat and scram. You feel your throat close up. "Eat. Need to pull your stitches." Jake nods and pulls up his tunic, back bare towards you. His scar was almost fully healed and the skin around the stitches were red and healing. At the back of your head your slowly memorizing the planes of his back, the muscles, the scars and odd freckles on his coffee colored skin. Slowly you tug the stitches off, using a small paring knife here and there. the lower you go the more he shifts and moves, making it harder for you. "Be still." you reprimand and he does.

You finish quickly, tossing the soiled thread into the fire and finally begin to eat your bowl of soup. Mechanical, like clockwork. no fussy feelings."Hal packed you a bag. You can go whenever." He looks up at you and for a moment you are looking at the forest in the summer. Deep green leaves speckled with yellow flowers and blue birds. He looks away and the image breaks. The snake in your chest curls tighter. your heart is hammering in your ears. "thank you Dirk, for understanding. I'll be back soon, hopefully with Jade! Then you can finally meet my sister and maybe even improve that construct you have at the shed."  
_what?_  
"what?"  
"what?"

"sister?"  
_construct?_ Like, a _body?_  
"what?"  
"you said 'your sister' I thought she was your cousin?"  
"technically she is, but we grew up together so she very well can be my sister."  
whats this about a body dirk? Is this what you've been working on?  
Yes, tomorrow. Go freak out somewhere else, it was meant to be your birthday gift.  
And I got it _early_? **BEST BIRTHDAY EVER!** Thank Jake for me! better yet can I? please?  
No, and technically _I_ made it. So your welcome. I'll show you what Jake made for you tomorrow when I can see if it works.  
such a shame he's gonna be gone before I can even try the thing. Oh, did you give me a face? Or am I gonna have a mask face like those Greek play mask things? If you did I will wreck your face...

You ignore his yammering as Jake suddenly stands up and shuffles towards the door, picking up the bag. Did he say something? you don't think you heard it. Before he even opens the door, he turns to look at you."I'll be back after tomorrow. I promise."and somehow , the crushing pain in your chest eases a little. You doubt it though, he's going to leave and realize how awful it is to stay here in this forest, alone with you and he's never going to come back. _No..._ you think back to the dark thoughts. _He's coming back. He promised_

\-------------------------

The sun rose through the trees the next day and already you were outside. Hal would have none of your sleeping in. First time in two week when you finally can sleep in your own bed (not that you slept a wink, the sheets smelled so much like Jake) and Hal rips you out of bed and into the early morning mist, demanding his "metal flesh suit". You had half a brain ready to douse the whole thing in salt. Lucky for Hal, that half of your brain wont wake up until 10. So instead you lead him to your workshop and wave a sarcastic 'tah-dah' at the propped up doll. The face was plated in a malleable ceramic that could articulate the whole face. It had taken you so god damned long to find a material combination that created the skin like material. Sadly you only had enough for its face. the dolls hair was styled in the same quaff that Hal's hair was always in. The dolls eyes were closed and so he didn't know about the ruby beads that was his eyes. The limbs were sleek and the patterns seemed aesthetic unless you knew each part could actually compress to a certain point. Hopefully Hal would sense the compression the same way your skin sensed pressure. The center of the torso is a small compartment where a wind-up key is protected within.

You need to wind it up first, on a full wind up you can do anything for about a day and a half, then you need to wind up again before the doll locks up.   
The wind up is inside the compartment where your heart should be.  
How poetic.  
You expected more snark and even a ballad of your decisions maybe throwing in how gay you are again or something but there was none of that. He look almost glassy eyed at his body, taking the whole thing in. Drinking with his eyes, reading the build, the blank sleeping face. His hands were twitching like he wanted to touch it but didn't as though he would break it. As if he could, you technically made it to take a beating.

Hal's got this a long time coming. He did technically raise you after bro died and you knew underneath all his jokes on living vicariously through you, he wanted to live for himself. He's always going to be your twin but you wont always be able to do what he wants to do himself. You open the compartment and pull out a matching key from your pocket. In case the one inside breaks and all. You twist the key for a while till it becomes impossible to twist it anymore. When you released the key, the doll sagged like a dead body compared to it's guard like stance before hand. You look up at Hal hovering over your shoulder looking at the doll quizzically. "well? go on. it's like taking over a body." he hesitated for a moment, then he sunk into the doll like a trust fall down the bed and you saw the eyes snap open, glittering beads of faintly glowing rubies. He lifted a hand, inspecting it, then looked up at you with the widest grin on his face."holy shit this is so coo- Holy shit! I'm talking."And he is, but his voice had a slight crackle to it though, maybe you could fix that. But besides the crackle he sounds exactly like how he does in your head.

You smile and hold your hand out. "yeah, yeah. Jake made you a voice box. Now get up, I need to see if you have any problems so I can fix it." Hal,smile still plastered on his face,braced his hands on the floor and pushed himself up with a grunting"alley-yop" he wobbled and swung his arms out, almost decking you in the face, but once he straightened up he looked like he's been walking around on legs all his life. "no problems? can you..." Both of you go through the motions, his mobility, senses ("holy shit I felt that!"), strength and finally your favorite. Endurance and coordination. To be tested only in the true Strider fashion. Hal grabbed two wooden sticks from a far corner, bumping a few tools out of the way, and both of you step out into the open field.

"why can't we use real swords?"  
"I could break your new body Hal."  
"pussy."

You haven't really done this before. At most you've only fought with the local fauna when they think messing with you is ok but other that that, you've never had a true battle with someone else. If your being completely honest, your very excited but you calm the pounding of your heart. Testing the weight of the old practice stick you will the adrenaline away, it wasn't useful to you. You needed precision not panic.

"On three". you say as he tosses you your weapon.  
"one."you both take a stance.  
"two."you see Hal smirk, ruby eyes twinkling. You know you have the same look on your face.  
_**"strife"**_

Hal lunges at you. You sidestep. Hal twists, swinging towards you. You parry and carry through, aiming for his gut. He dodges and goes for a leg sweep. You jump out of the way. Hal didn't seem impeded by the new body, in fact, he looked like giddy child, smirk still in place, eyes calculating, body coiled like a spring. His eyes dart away and you jump back in. You go for the neck and he brings his sword up to block. You let it connect. He jarrs from the blow. Your still twisting mid air , leg up to connect to his ribs. His hand grabs your ankle. Shit your gonna lose this. The hand yanks your leg and you almost flail. Instead you plant your other foot square on his chest and launched yourself off. Hal looses his grip and you stick your landing, pain shooting up your body but you shrug it off. Hal stumbles back but recovers into a stance. you copy.

You circle around each other, patient, calculating. Before simultaneously striking, then blocking and dodging out of the way. Trading blows like a choreographed dance. From early morning to mid afternoon, the thud and thwack of sticks form a discordant melody ringing in your ears. You breath heavily through your nose, mouth shut, your arms feel like lead and your legs feel like molten metal. Hal looks no worse for wear, perks of being dead you guess. When you miscalculated and spun too far, back exposed to your enemy. Hal immediately strikes and you fell onto your chest weapon out of reach and Hal poised over your neck.

"Say uncle dirk. Do it."you could feel the child like joy emanating off of him in waves. the bastard. You could always roll away and start the strife all over again but you legitimately cannot feel your legs, or your hands.  
"fine. Uncle, you win. Rub it in you tireless embodied asshole."  
"up for another round?",you're almost tempted.  
"nah, I still have to practice talking and check the rabbit traps on the western quarter. My winter stocks been low and its already mid September."  
"Booring. I'm gonna grab your hunting kit, I always wanted to see how hard it is to kill a boar."  
Aight, knock yourself out.

\-------------------------

Hal came back with one dead boar, three pheasants and a deer's broken antler. Abandoning the antler by the door he immediately gutted and cleaned his kill. Which in comparison to your three rabbits and basket of wild vegetables, seemed like a lot- not that you'd ever tell him that.

Dinner was filled with Hal trying to cram food down his throat which you violently tried to stop. Only when the piece of bread he shoved down started to mess with his voice box did he concede and you both had the displeasure of putting your hand in Hal's throat and cleaning the defiled mechanism.

Other than that you both went about your dinner chores. You always took care of the dishes and Hal went about with whatever he does. Although up until recently, Jake would always insist on the clean up and would usually nudge you to the fur covered couch. He would always tell you stories about where he's from and the friends that he has. He would talk about the bakers daughter that could figure out what you did that morning from just a look. He talked about her friend who was wanted by three villages for stealing from the greedy Barron but everyone knew she gave the money to those who couldn't survive til next harvest. He talked about the animals he had in his ranch and the various people and places he'd trade with.

Every night was filled with his soft tenor regaling tales of a domestic social life surrounded with other people. And now, theres a sort of pang in your chest not of the painful constricting feeling. A somewhat low pull in your heart almost like the gut feeling of Hal when he yanks on your tether. But this was less like that feeling and more like... something else. were you longing for Jake? No, thats too strong of a word. You're just feeling a tad lonely, I mean of course Hal is always there but you basically share a brain from time to time. Maybe you just miss Jakes comforting presence. Yeah, thats it. You just miss Jake. Thats perfectly normal. Friends miss each other when they're not around all the time. But that would mean Jake would miss you too. Were you even friends ? You don't think he's ever mentioned being your friend. You honestly thought your thoughts would get the better of you tonight but as you lay in bed again tonight, the subtle smell of pine and fresh earth and musk- Jake - drag your over worked body and brain down to sleep.

A sleep which you are violently woken up from. Alarms blare a dull counter noise that makes your head ache. Each ear ringing pulse cancels out any noise you could make, disorienting you horribly. Hal is no where in sight and with the tether between you, you sense him westward. This occasion usually happens often enough that you aren't worried, his new body was built with this specific task in mind as well. You stand and grab your Katana, a weapon left behind by your late older brother, and leave the house heading eastward. you have this alarm for one thing and one thing only- Drones. A menace you deal with constantly, stemming from a distant hive with its queen dead set on conquering the whole forest. Honestly with almost all the inhabitants in this forest under her rule, you often question why you bother.

But you've seen her work. you've seen how her drones all try to spread their reaches to far and beyond. The only reason they've stayed contained here in this forest is to get rid of you- the only one left in their little lawn ring that refuses to bow. It pisses of the queen royally. Which in turn makes your day each and every time.

When you spot large red bear sized bugs crawling all over the forest floor, you quickly and quietly swing your sharp blade, decapitating drones left and right. Normally, this would kill any animal but drones don't need brains. Without heads they lose connection with the queen and go on a rampage, destroying anything it could reach. And normally Hal would be with you controlling the headless drones to instead help you. You remember this a little too late as one nearly cleaved you in half with its sharp mantis like forearms. You dodge out of the way and up the trees to see how much damage control you needed. Six drones where rampaging, killing ten or so others each before getting destroyed by their own kin. But there were still a few left and now their locked onto you.

"Sic 'em boy!"

suddenly a large white dire wolf leaps from the trees and viciously tear into the drones. From where the wolf came from is a young human looking huntress with long tousled hair, unruly and tangled with twigs. Her hand is steady as she aims her arrow, releasing a single shot peircing through the drones carapace and straight to the heart. your hand tightens its hold on the bough as slowly but surely the pair dismantles the drones. You debate between jumping down to help or leave quietly when a distant howl causes both of the new comers to snap up, looking towards the sound. The dire wolf crushes the bug beneath its paws, head still turned skyward. "I know bec, we should go find Alpha, he can't be left alone tonight"  said the girl as she climbs atop the large white wolf. A flash of green then they are no where in sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I was having a bit of a dificulty barfing out a longer chapter. maybe I should just stick with lighter chapters and frequent updates ? comment your suggestions and if you saw any mistake, please point it out too 
> 
> TY  
> -Nat


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry about the hella late update, Who knew designing chairs and interiors really bites the creativity.

Chapter 5

You arrive at your little house in the woods just as the sun began to bade away the darkness of the eastern sky. Though the sight would be well appealing as it always is, the brightness is starting to give you a migraine. Today was definitely a bad-eye-condition day. It happens sporadically as you grew up, sometimes there'd be whole months where you cant even handle the brightness of a full moon, much less the day time. Its the only reason you have to call yourself nocturnal in some instances.

The moment you enter your home, you immediately lock the door and draw the black out curtains plunging the cabin into pitch darkness. You fall face first into bed and let sleep take the edge of. You should really have something to where over your eyes for these days. It was ridiculous the amount of times you spent doing nothing for days just trying to hide from the sun and all that it stood for. Curse the being that drags that burning ball of eyesore and migraines out into the sky. Why couldn't it be less bright ? like a fire fly. That you could handle. Their Butt light isn't even constant- it flickers and fades and its pretty to look at. Butts that glow and catches your attention. Dancing around the place when you're working. Especially when their clad in brown trousers a tab bit too small. You wonder if your still thinking about the sun or Jakes ass.

You toss and turn in bed, trying to get comfortable. How long has it been? You don't know if your still awake or you've slept but just didn't realize it. It wouldn't be the first time it happened to you. One moment you're flicking though a book, the next its morning and your drool has defaced the notes you where taking.

You get up to try and maybe get a cup of water to drink but you are met with violet walls and violet clothes and violet everything. Damn. You don't really dream often but this is the first dream you have that makes you feel ashamed of your brain. It's like you've forgotten every other color tone. Thankfully your not violet- your sleeping wear is but not you. Across from you is another bed almost identical to yours. And in the purple version of your cabin room you know there isn't suppose to be a bed there.

the bed is unkept, sheets of linen and fur strewn about haphazardly atop the small hay-filled mattress. in front of it is the window that was looked into the dark beyond. you float over to it, though not without first having a small freak out over _your flying, holy mother of shit stains_. The view was impressive to say the least. elegant purple pointy buildings rise from paved streets all tall and imposing but never tall enough to trump the tower you were in. In the distance was other structures, similar to the one you're in.

you fly out into the open, a shaky course towards the three other spires in the distance. Below you could see the vast expanse of brick building after beautiful brick building. Maybe this was a metaphor, that you are in the expanse of your very captivating yet dangerous and ominous thoughts. It'd be so like you to dream up a place that screams ' **I am a monster** '. walking about are dark figures that seem vaguely human but faces are featureless and completely rounded with glowing white eyes and hidden mouths. But they do seem to converse to each other. Few have noticed you and even fewer greet you.

" Hey there Mage! Is the prince awake yet ?"  
"Are you sure thats not the prince?"  
"Ey yo magi ! Need some runes?"

You are horribly confused. They seem to be calling you, talking about you and even talking to you like they know you when you've never met them before. You brush the weird feeling aside and fly by one of the towers, peeking inside. You see swords hanging on the walls, tapestries of some kind here and there as well as posters all over depicting stage productions you have no idea about. And off in a corner, by a desk facing a wall, was a pale haired man sketching into an empty leather bound book. He stops suddenly, and in a blink his before you, blade out and ready to defend himself. " who- " and like a light, he crumples to the floor. fast asleep.

Well that wasn't weird at all...

\----------------------------------------

You aren't really sure how long this dream goes but after that weird incident in the tower, you've descended to the streets and speak with the locals. Well, 'speak' is a wrong term, chitter chatter sounds better since these chitin-skinned-featureless-humans-ish-people ? speak with weird clicks and clacks peppering around sentences. Which you dont know if you find it weird or fascinating. They aren't very polite in your perspective, kind of crass and vulgar, which in all honesty is kind of funny to you rather than insulting and it seems to be the norm in this place which you found out was called  'Derse' and the rude citizens are called  'dersites' .

"Yeah, das right. It dun mattah i'da queens a mythic bitch. She makes us dersites a proud people an we don wait tuh get drafted- We enlist cuzzat what it mean to be from derse. Aint tuh blood or do we bow, only the heroes an' royalty got that privilage."  
"there's a war? with who?"  
"With Prospit o'course. Them yellow loving lilly livered peace loving sad excuse fo' a sister race. An' you know we're winnin' cuz aint no one as badass as us dersites."

Their way of talking surprises you, it sounds very similar to how Hal talks. with lilting, almost sing song, speech. They all still call you 'mage' but you have no idea why. Some ask you on how 'The Prince' is fairing, which you always answer with 'the usual'. They always cackle every time. You had every intention of wasting your time when you spy another person in the distance. And by person you mean someone who looks like you and not the dark shelled people mingling about.

"whose that?"Dirk asked as he pointed to the floating figure.  "who- Oh, her. Shes the 'Rogue' who lives in the tower near yours and the Prince's. She sleepflies alot. It's pretty common for us now though"  as she flies towards you, you notice how she oddly looks like you. Tan skin from days in the sun, dusted with faint freckles where yours is more prominent, blonde hair like your own although hers seem almost pinkish in contrast to all the violet. She flies higher and impossibly higher before zooming off into a distant yet almost crumbling tower. You follow after her.

You catch up to her after she enters a purple dome through a large cathedral window. Inside looked nothing like you expect. There were no high royalty furnishings or decorative sofas or any of the sort. Inside looked depleted and run down- almost worse than your own home. Vines and leaves invade crevices in the cracked stone wall growing out of it like some kind of misplaced metaphor. Wine bottles both empty and full are strewn about everywhere making the air stale with the smell. There are wine stains on everything from the thread bare rug to the ceiling. But in between the mess and ruin are hints of personality. Sketches of trees, cats and people are just as scattered as the wine bottles. An entire wall is dedicated to certain sketches of people and threads of different colors connect each one to another in some way.and at the very heart of it is a sketch so buried under the clutter you could only make out a bit of it, and above it is a note, unimpeded with bold words that read

" **Strider-Lalonde Clan** "  
_strongest together_

"strider?"  before you could even wonder about what that meant the world shifted on it axis and your falling, like the earth beneath your feet decided to just dissolve like an A class asshole and just as suddenly you slam awake and upright in your bed, in your house, the curtains drawn and the lights off. Your eyes aren't throbbing out of its sockets so you know that worst of it has passed. You get out of bed and pry the curtain an increment away from the window pane. So sunlight streams through, which is odd. You remember sleeping at sunrise, the dull ache like a spoon scraping the back of your skull a testament to the burning ball of contempt attempting to blind you for eternity.

You couldn't have possibly slept the whole day away have you? Hal would have woken you up if you did. He hated having no one to talk to. Maybe the bastard grew a brain and knew not to disturb you for once during your horrible-eye-pain days. You pull back the curtains and roll up the blinds staring through dust encrusted glass towards the very star filled night sky. Damn.

You really thought Jake would show up? He's gone you twat. Scared of you and your insane delusions, who would want to stay with a crazy hermit in the woods? You even get sick of your own brother and he's basically you. You were abandoned by your family and you'll be abandoned by everyone. Face the facts. No one stays with a **monster** like you.  
_shut up._ Ignore that thought. Bury it. Don't. Think. About. It. Think about something else, like the time- Hal would have made dinner by now if you were out of commission. Or He'd stil be in his tin suit doing god knows what. You hope he remembered to wind it up.  
"Hal? Where are you? I need to check on your body."

No reply.

Hal? you asked though your thoughts.

Silence... still no reply

C'mon bro, not funny. Bro? broseph? Hal? lil' Bro?  Still nothing. Calling him little brother usually makes him snap at you faster than you can finish a thought. He makes himslef act like the big brother so much that you sometimes forget that technically he isnt even a minute old. You both know this. Its an awful pet peeve to pull right now and you're a refined-gemstone-worth-three-times-the-money-you-could-ever-have-in-your-life of an asshole to use that against him. Maybe he was about to answer you but now you just pissed him off and now his ignoring you. Hal isnt one for silent treatment, though, he'd rather dish out what you served with a fistfull of more spice aimed well below the belt. Damned well had enough on you to die from shame.

You close your eyes and look for the teather that binds you and Hal together. A thread soaked in autumn colors that pulses with your heartbeat. There are many around you that you never pay too much attention to. You can't always see them, only your autumn thread, but sometimes- after bad days when your eyes feel like burning coals in your skull and every noise that bounces about around sounds ten times louder and even the really bad days when your feverish and delirious and in pain. Every single time afterwards, you could always see the threads anew, bright and vivid and beautiful.

But in the vibrant pinks and blues and lilac lack anything resembling what you're looking for. The teather on your end remains vibrant but as it stetches beyond you, it frays and goes every which way like an untwisted cord. You can _feel_ your brother but you cannot find the end of the thread. Maybe. Maybe the walls are just obscuring your sight. You need to step out and- and look again. Yes, the iron in the walls must be tampering with your sight. You've read about iron having a dampening effect on some forms of magic. Of course, its got to be it- the only other option is implausible, improbable, inconceivable.

The same is to be said about you running outside in blind panic. You dont run. You are calm and collected and definitely did not miss a step and face planted on the ground. You definitely did not get a mouthful of grass and mud either. You were completely composed. Ok, you might be screaming at the top of your lungs looking for your missing brother. But You were definitely not in the verge of tears. Nope, definitely not. You were not screaming til your voice cracked, you were not screaming even after your voice cracked. Your pretty sure your still screaming though, its quieter now, like you weren't even making a single noise. But you definitely were still screaming for your brother.

A flare of deep forrest green and bright jade colors your somber eyesight. But there was still no bright autumn reds or even a dying orange. it wasn't Hal.

"Dirk?! I heard yelling, whats the matter?"   
"ha-gu-m'bro." _Hal's gone_ you try to say _have you seen my bro?_  
"Jake? I think he broke his voice." It was the huntress with the white hound. Why was she here?  
"Oh, right. uh.." Jake hands you a stick from the ground  "Breathe, old friend, and tell us whats wrong" he jestures to the soft muddy ground. Right... oh, _write_  


And with shakey hands you do. You tell them about waking up late at night and fending off drones and Hal not being there when you woke up. _I can't even **see** him. Even after waking up._

"You've said that twice already Dirk. Do you remember when you last saw him?"  
you shake you head. You _know_ you wrote it twice, you meant the color and the strings and the _**lack of your tether!!!**_  
" poppycock, are you sure ol'chap? because I have no bloody blithering clue how to look for a ghost! I've hunted wraiths and sea-devils but a normal friendly ghost is - is-"  
"I think it's best to take this inside. Dirk was it ? He's close to shivering a hole in the ground."  


You didnt know you were shivering, sure its like late Withering but Ivory Frost isnt in til a few more weeks at least. Though now that you think about it, your hands wont stop shaking and you cant feel your bare toes. You do try to move back inside, walking on your legs like a new born colt, but you suddenly remember- You've been asleep for a whole day. The forge is long put out by now if no one was there to stoke it or feed the flames. 

You try and tell Jake but the burning ache in your vocal cords stops you. Instead you take a shakey detour to the work shed.

"Dirk? The house is this way." Jake says as he takes a hold of your arm. You try to not think about how warm he is, or how that warmth is radiating in waves inside you like a pulsing heart beat.

You shake your head. You point at the work shed and then rub your hands against your arms. Trying to tell him that the heaters wont work with a dead forge. You hope and pray he gets it. You'd rather not push your vocal limits right now.

"Is there furs in the shed? I thought the house was heated?" Jake asked, head tilted and eyes wide. You shake your head again.  "the house isnt heated ?" Oh thank the Gods and their orange juice. _Finally_. You nodd finally, a small smile of victory on your lips. It is minute, miniscule, microscopic. But its there, and Jake is eyeing you and you dont know why. Softly he tells you  " Alright, I'll take care of it. But by dickens you need a blanket, some warm tea maybe calm-momile. I was expecting a 'welcome home' of sorts when I got back you know. You sure gave me quite the scare when I heard you screaming at the top of your small lungs. Managed to run all the way here." He was still staring at you, God his eyes are so green. Its like wet grass or raw emerald. You dont think anything he said registered in your head just yet. He smiles, and you swear you forgot how to breathe. But you realize how much your holding on to him though. You'd call it a death grip but his smile already killed you from the inside. 

"C'mon then mister, lets get you inside. I'll just go light the forge and be right back. promise."  You try not to think about his arm around your waist, guiding you, holding you. You try not to think about his face so close to your own. Instead you think of summer grass, of raw unpolished emeralds, of the specs of color blurred together to form beautiful hue of the eyes you havent seen for what felt like months. 

_______________________________

and then they fuck. or not :/


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY FOR BEING LATE, THIS TOOK LONGER THAN I HAD EXPECTED. WRITERS BLOCK CAN BE A BITCH TBH 
> 
> also TW: panic attacks, I technically have never had them so IDK but I hope I portrayed it well ? 
> 
> also also: not edited or anything, I finished this then immediately posted it.

chapter 6

Once inside you start to notice how haggard looking Jake and the huntress looks.  Their clothes were mud stained and tattered. Cured leather guards worn down to near uselessness. But they wore them still. maybe it meant something to them? who are you to know, all you've done since they've arrived is embarrass yourself and cause them some trouble. If you were in their situation, you'd've definitely left a while ago. You're still shivering in your bare feet and your pretty sure your lips look like you've been suckling on blueberries, but as the huntress turns to you and guides you down onto Hal's chair you start to fall back into yourself.

This isnt the first time this happened. Hal called it zoning-out-but-like-real-bad, you just called it getting lost. You havent told him that though. Sometimes you just think way too much, taking one instance or memory or idea and turning it over and over until you wear it down to dust. Like carving wood only you dont realize you've whittled it til your hands are stinging and not a single fiber of the original bough is left. And all you Have to show for it is a pile of tinder and a dissapointed look of Hal.

Well he cant really look now can he? He's Dead. Passed on, Left you to the horror of your never ending thoughts.

sometimes you think your mind is one elaborate maze with no exit. One moment you have your hand on the wall, self assured and in control. But the moment when you lose the control- when you doubt whether or not you've been keeping your hand on the wall at all is the moment you spiral into yourself. Ddrowning in thought after thought after thought with no idea which way was up and gasping in for air only to find yourself fallen so deep you've forgotten how to breath and the darkness just keeps getting darker and  
darker until there is no difference between opened or closed eyes and-

" DIRK!!"   
who ?  
"stay with me man. c'mon chap"   
jake?   
"c'mon. lets see those ember gems, thats it. stay with me now."

You slowly start to feel your limbs again. But your breath comes in wheezes and they never seem to fill your lungs. You try to breathe in deep but all that comes up is gasping and your all but failing at the one thing every living being is good at- breathing.

But Jake notices. He's steel eyed and iron willed calm. And he helps you though it- puts one of your hands against your chest and the other on his- and he breathes, slow and steady whispering soft encouragements that don't register but the tone of his voice is enough to will you to try and follow. And its difficult, he breathes so deep you wonder if he's even human but you keep trying. And he keeps holding your hands, big, warm and callous over your cold, boney fingers. slow as melting snow you finally manage to breathe in deep lungfuls of air. The shadows around your vision fades and you find yourself staring into bright emeralds wet with worry.

you tug softly at your now warm hands still beneath his. A soft nods of your head lets Jake know your alright again.

you feel him squeeze your definitely sweaty palms before shuffling out of your comfort zone. You didn't even notice how close you both were, faces almost touching- if you had even tilted a little bit more forwards you lips would have- no, snap out of it.

you know there is no way you could muster through the stabbing pain of your throat to try and talk to them, so you go pick up a pad of loosely bound paper and a few cards that had word phrases on them. You used these to practice talking, flashing cards and reading out what was written. When you sit back on the chair and catch the eye of both Jake and the huntress, you flick through the cards and flash the one you were looking for.

thank you.   
"oh! it was nothing! said Jake while the huntress simply waved off your gratitude. Ok then. You flick through the cards again before holding up three cards at the huntress.  
hello. My name is Dirk. What is your name?   
you wish it didn't make you sound like a five year old but you'd rather not write everything thing down. The huntress, though, didn't seem to mind too much.  
"My name's Jade, I'm Jake's cousin but we grew up together so we're practically siblings. " and you nod, this was the Jade that jake went out to look for. You shuffle through the cards again looking for a way you can ask what they were both doing here on the first place. You've asked jake but he always deflected the question with vague answers. You hold up a card that says  
"What do you do? (job)"

"Oh that's easy, I'm a hunter and Jake's a hunter too but we hunt different things generally. I'm also the village witch."  
" A witch is someone who's a master in using magic. Jade's the first in seven generations that mastered more than one kind, "  
"-three in fact! still working on Evocation"  
"But I already out class you in that field lass, no need to try and one up this chump"  
"No you don't! besides even if I'm getting real close to beating you in Evocation, I already out shoot you anyway."  
"Hogwash! You only say that because grampops liked you better. I'll remind you that he said _I_ was the better shot."  
"Oh, that's SO not true! He only said that so you wont get all mopey after you manage to miss the bulls eye! thrice!"   
"I did no such thing!"   
"Did too!"   
"Did NOT! 

You get the feeling as you watch this descent down to the madness that this isn't the first time this topic has been argued over. You also observe the sibling rivalry with keen interest, you wonder which of the two is actually older...

You've never seen Jake like this before and you've had no idea how siblings are suppose to act around each other after meeting Jake and realizing that there was a status quo to these things. But the banter was no different between you and Hal when he manages to rile you up- which is frequently. Your glad to know that you aren't as alienated as you believed- if the common attitude towards blood relatives is anything to go by. It... it helps you stay grounded enough to believe that Hal' wouldn't just leave you.

you think...

But this whole conversation doesn't answer the question on what they where doing here anyway. You guess they misinterpret the flash card. Or you just fucked up on asking the right question. You shuffle through them again before Jade interrupts you by asking a question herself.

" uh, dirk was it? can you tell me about these 'drones' that you fought? maybe your brother was taken or wandered off too far?   
you shake your head no and wrote quickly and legibly as you can on the blank side of a card

"Drones are big soldier insects thats controlled by the queen some ways from here. They've been a common pest since I can remember. Hal and I have fought these before, we can kill the weaker ones from last night easily. Hal wouldn't have wandered too far too, I wouldn't be breathing if he had." 

"then something else has probably taken him..."   
Jake and Jade share a look.  "Dirk, do you know which direction Hal went in? we can help you look for him if you'd like."   
You point in the direction when you last felt a pull from hall, due west, towards the ruins and unknown territory beyond.

" Alright then, we'll leave at first light. You young sir need some good ol' fashion recuperation and recombobulation. I'll get you some soup and then we can all sort this out in the morning."

Jake had to then wrestle you into bed ( _dontthinkaboutitdontthinkaboutit_ ) as you had tried to stand up and heat up some of the soup, and when you were tucked in to his liking, he feeds _you_ a warm bowl of broth instead left over from yesterday. You know you should feel somewhat indignant from being babied. But instead your cheeks are warm and your palms are sweaty and its definitely not from the heater. Unless the heater was Jake "I-will-take-care-of-you" English. Then yes, it is most definitely caused by the heater. When you had finished eating, you watched Jade step outside for a moment them walk back in with the large white hound you saw her with. They curl up together on floor atop the furs laid out for both of Jake and Jade. Instead, with the big white dog with them, the whole space is taken up. You notice Jake and Jade muttering quietly at each other, unable to hear a single word.

" Ugh! fine..."   
"uh, dirk? would you mind if I bunk with you for the night?"  
You scoot to the side and pat the empty space you just vacated. You are nothing if not a good host.

\-----------------------

You are nothing but a dumb struck idiot.

Why? Why did you think it was a good idea to let the guy you are acutely aware of being hot as the fucking sun sleep next to you? You can't take a breath without smelling pine and sunshine and musk and _Jake_. It's like you are trying to torture yourself! you groan internally. You try to shift away from the hulking mass of man beside you but even with your back towards him you cant seem to get the smell away. The bed is far too small to escape anyway, especially since you've trapped yourself against the wall. You try anyway.

Your fidgeting about actually caused the sleeping hunter to throw his arm about you and hold you still. You almost believe he was still awake, until you hear his somewhat loud snoring, feel his every breath against your neck and you smell even more of him now. Your also aware of the unwanted visitor between your legs. Excuse me sir, I don't believe you were invited.Oh but I was call never the less and now here I am.

Great, now your having a mental conversation with your dick. for once your glad Hal can't here you. You'd cut your own head off and throw your body into a pit of vipers if Hal had heard your thoughts. You curl your body closer like your trying to protect what little dignity you have left. And by dignity you mean your dick of course.

Gods ! what is up with you tonight, your brother could literally be suffering worse than death right now but all your thinking about is your manhood and the man you want your hood on. You think you might be dying, can a man die from self humiliation? you don't know but you damn well are trying. You don't think you can sleep, and you don't think the throbbing between your legs is going away anytime soon either. With every breath of the heady smell you feel yourself grow a little warmer, and by the time your eyelids feel like boulders your almost feverish. You can hear your own ragged breathing and-

\-----------------------------------------------

The next morning comes around with no incident. You wake up with the sound of Jake making breakfast and Jade outside, feeding her dog whose name you learn is Bec. You spend the early dawn packing up a light pack of essentials to bring with you. You bring your short one-sided sword, and arm yourself with your trusty weapon, The Unbreakable Katana. Hal told you it was Bro's weapon before he died and had delegated its ownership to you. You found a small note with it that basically just amounts to Bro telling you exactly that and how its a signature blade of a great race long forgotten by people. But time forgets nothing and so the techniques and care of the artifact now rests on you. You also bring its repair kit, a whetstone, some concentrated alcohol and clean linens. The rest of the things you bring are just spare rations, extra furs for the settling cold and some tools should you find the automaton. 

You all eat a heavy breakfast and leave quickly, the rising sun behind you. It felt ominous to you, traveling towards the retreating darkness looking for someone lost. It almost feels like the start of a story Bro would totally sing about. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what happened when they were sleeping together ? who knows ? also comments give me life and feeds my cats and makes me work quicker 
> 
> love y'alls <3


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